


Blood Honey

by aliencupcake



Category: Teeth - Lady Gaga (Music Video)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Light Bondage, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 00:09:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5948428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliencupcake/pseuds/aliencupcake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're underpaid and too broke to renew your license, vampire hunting never goes quite how you'd expect. On a hunt, unlicensed vampire hunter Alessio meets some challenging prey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood Honey

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Etnoe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etnoe/gifts).



The club music pounded, beat after beat rattling Alessio, heart shaking in his ribcage. He was all decked out, vampire-detecting sense on high alert, or what passed for high alert for him. The overabundance of sexy guys made concentration almost impossible. If he weren’t getting (poorly) paid for unlicensed vampire hunting, he would have taken that man with the tight leather pants and unusually round ass home.

As he had a mission, he concentrated his senses on finding the vampire, who was easy enough to spot. He wasn’t bothering to hide well. Luckily, the vampire had an equally nice ass and looked good in that heavy eyeliner, so Alessio wouldn’t have to suffer when he seduced him.

Wiggling up to the vampire proved easy enough. Alessio knew how to navigate clubs with their thumping music and seas of writhing leather. He purred in the vampire’s ear, “Wanna dance?” They were already dancing, so it was mostly a formality. It was still polite to ask.

“We’re already dancing.” His voice held all the sweetness of honey, yet the vampire sounded more like a wasp than a honeybee. Maybe vampiric wasps could produce honey; Alessio didn’t know, and he was losing his metaphor.

“But do you _want_ to be dancing?” Alessio pressed closer.

“Why not?” The vampire matched Alessio’s dancing, pressing closer as well. 

Their hips swayed to the music, and, for a moment, Alessio forgot he had a job to do among the heat and the noise. The poor pay might have had something to do with that. 

“Do you have a name?” Alessio asked. “I’m Alessio.” He would survive giving out his first name, probably.

A low voice answered, “Call me Darius if you insist on asking my name in a place such as this. Last I checked, we didn’t need names for fucking. That’s your intent, I assume.”

“You don’t want me to shout your name when I come?”

Alessio needed to move from seduction to capture before this got too dangerous. It took so much concentration just to hear in this club. Perhaps he could make this hunt a little game. Darius, which was likely a fake name, might agree. 

“Do you ever roleplay? Ever pretend to get caught?” It was Alessio’s best suggestion.

“That’s the only way I’m ever caught.”

“Wanna play? Let me catch you and take you to my lair.”

Darius gave a lazy shrug somehow time with all the hot, pounding music. “I have no plans. Let’s go. Capture me.”

He allowed it, so Alessio dragged him to his lair that wasn’t a true lair and not his home. As badly paid as Alessio was, he didn’t quite have to live in an unheated warehouse. He enjoyed that struggle, Darius pushing and pulling against him with no real effort to escape. It let Alessio feel just a bit powerful, for once. Darius’ body ran cool against him, just as would be expected for a creature of the night. That coolness only made him hotter.

Their fake struggle so absorbed Darius that he didn’t yet complain when Alessio tied him to the chair. “Do you like bondage?” Alessio couldn’t resist a wink. “Do you like being hunted?”

“You are the most transparent vampire hunter I’ve ever met.”

“I’m not a vampire hunter.” Not a lie, legally speaking.

“Funding ran low?” Darius raised an eyebrow as he examined the various hunting implements Alessio had on his table, skepticism rolling off him in smug, invisible waves.

Music should disguise Alessio’s nerves. Maybe a war dance would do some good, get Alessio pumped enough Darius couldn’t see through his translucent emotional shielding. Alessio danced in time to the music, much like he had at the club, but with sharper movements and more aggression. Darius may have been collared and tied up, but Alessio realized he was no slave. He could still intimidate him, though; after all, Darius _was_ tied up, and Alessio had all the supplies. That mattered. Perhaps.

“This isn’t organic.” Alessio grabbed a split clove of garlic and waved it under Darius’ nose. It wasn’t organic _or_ legally acquired. When underfunded, a wannabe hunter had to make do. In his defense, he hadn’t taken the _garlic_ from the Vatican.

“GMOs and herbicides don’t scare me.” A dismissive shrug. “I’m undead.”

The music thumped to the beat of Alessio’s frustration as he flung the stolen garlic in the trash. “This rosary isn’t organic either.” It was, however, stolen. Rosaries, organic or not, were expensive.

He got up close to Darius like he was giving him a holy lap dance. This elicited a most unholy reaction from Darius. Alessio ignored it. He encircled Darius’ neck with the rosary and stepped back.

Nothing happened, except Darius smirked at him, the rosary nothing more than a necklace that clashed with his outfit.

Alessio should have realized that a stolen rosary wouldn’t do anything. Stolen holy water, which he splashed on Darius next, was as useful, though he also suspected the glass he’d swiped had been filled from an ordinary, unblessed bathroom faucet. It didn’t matter, Darius an implacable, bloodthirsty rock in the chair. His dark hair and dark eyes were immovable, except for that damn smirking.

“How much will you get paid for killing me, anyway?” Another damnable smirk, and glittering eyes.

“Enough to wipe that smirk off your face,” Alessio said.

“If I’m properly dead, I won’t be able to smirk, will I? You’re not getting paid enough. Nothing like hazard pay, I assume?”

It wouldn’t profit Alessio to grumble about his limited salary which did not include anything like hazard pay. He picked up a pair of pliers. “You’re not _that_ hazardous.” He couldn’t, it seemed, resist a little grumbling.

“Surely I’m hazardous enough for you to be paid enough to get your license?” Darius’ eyes flicked to the useless pliers in Alessio’s hand. “I’d be insulted if you thought I wasn’t.”

Alessio tried for a glare. “Then be insulted.” That did nothing to dim the glitter in Darius’ eyes. If Alessio were in some other situation, he might have fallen into those bright-dark eyes.

“You really enjoy your work, then?”

Somewhere during their conversation, Alessio had dropped the pliers. “Are you a vampire or a career counselor?”

“Why can’t I be both?” Another self-satisfied shrug.

“Who would take career advice from a vampire?”

Darius said, “I’m making more money than you are.”

The surety in his voice twisted Alessio’s face. He leaned forward, putting their faces mere centimeters apart. He remembered Darius’ unholy _reaction_ from before and was embarrassed to realize he was responding in kind, never mind this ridiculousness had started as a false seduction.

It was Alessio’s turn to raise an eyebrow, partly to distract Darius from Alessio’s unfortunate reaction. “As a career counselor?”

Darius laughed, loud and echoing in the gray warehouse. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Maybe I’m a stripper. I could teach you a dance move or two.”

“That was an intimidation dance, not a striptease.” He put his hands on his hips to prove it, without getting out of Darius’ lap.

“If that was your intent, you failed. I’m turned on but _completely_ unintimidated. My apologies. And you were the one who wanted to seduce me, not that I minded.”

Leaning closer, Alessio growled, “That was part of my mission plan.”

“I see.”

A long pause, as Alessio had no response for Darius. He had no way of winning; he hadn’t been able to steal a proper stake. With his luck, the inscription he’d added to his knife wouldn’t even work.

“You should let me drink your blood. Contrary to popular belief, it’s not lethal. And it won’t turn you.”

Alessio was fucked. It wasn’t that Darius could compel him, but, looking at that damned knife, he saw he’d carved the wrong word into the handle. Or maybe it was the right word; he couldn’t remember his grammar now. If it were the right word, it would - hopefully - kill Darius. If it were the wrong word, it would kill Alessio. Being a ghost didn’t appeal; ghosts didn’t get paid.

There was not one logical reason in the entire world or underworld to trust Darius. Alessio did so anyway, or else his erection decided to trust. He came close, crawling into Darius’ lap.

“Go on. And you should pay me,” Alessio said.

“With your salary, you probably need it.”

Darius extended his fangs and bit down.

The bite went right to Alessio’s groin, a supernatural lightning bolt. He gasped, barely aware of the pain. What pain there was, it only enhanced the pleasure, sparking every inch of Alessio’s body. He shook, unable to contain what he was feeling.

Somehow, he knew Darius wasn’t going to kill him, so there was simply no need for regret. Even if Darius had been lying and did turn him, Alessio wouldn’t regret this.

***

Some unspecified time later, Alessio woke up; he was in a bed, next to Darius. Alessio was still clothed, if he could count his club outfit as clothing. Darius smiled at him. "See? You're not a vampire, but you might want to change into something more comfortable. Like your naked body."

"You didn't turn me." Alessio could tell he was still human.

"I don't turn anybody without permission, but if you asked, I'd do it for you."

Upon hearing Darius' offer, Alessio started to seriously consider it.

Being a vampire would be more fun than being an underpaid vampire hunter.


End file.
